


The Perfect Son's Diary 7

by Agent C (arh581958)



Series: The Perfect Son's World [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Agent%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil and Barney hold a ball; a) to celebrate their engagement and b) to announce's Clint being an omega. The story of forbidden attraction continues in the seventh installment of Phil's diary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time (and perhaps only time) that I will be posting a diary entry in two-parts. I was just so excited to post this that I'll risk posting the actual ball as the second chapter. 
> 
> This chapter tells the story of what happens before the ball begins.

_The evening of our Celebration Ball falls on a cold autumn night. Charles has been scouring each and every boutique in the main town to ensure that everything is absolutely perfect for tonight. I cannot help but admire his particularity with detail; it is a wonderful trait in a future-Omega. Charles determined to create a successful party that neighbours and townsfolk will gossip about for days._

_The occasion is seconded as Clint's Omega Ball, a coming-of-age tradition for his presentation. It was more than a month ago, but the shrill echoes of the night haunt me as clear as yesterday's dream. I have seen scarce of the younger Barton brother since that night. In truth, I am equal parts duty-bound and cowering away like coward that I am._

_Who is to say that I will not let my inner-Alpha take control when I meet with him alone? Our interactions have been limited to glances across the dining room table and brief pleasantries in the corridors. At night, I lay awake breathing in his scent. The calm musky scent of rain covers me like a blanket. I am captivated now that I know what he truly smells like. He smells like he is meant to be mine._

_Clint has been secluded in his room for days, preparing for tonight. I've caught glimpses and glances of jackets, and waist coats, and breeches going inside. Charles tells me that as a tradition, Barton Omega will create a one-of-a-kind ensemble for their presentation. And Clint, according to him, does not have delicate Omega fingers._

_"It's the bow" Charles tells me as we walk down the corridor. Guests have begun arriving early in the afternoon and, as hosts, we begun the festivities with afternoon snacks and coffee. He was wearing conservative green hues and matching shoes. I know that come the first light of moon, he will have changed into a more appropriate fashion.  "That thing has cursed Clint's finger into stubby rough things." he bemoans in regret._

_I offer my hand as we descend the staircase together. Charles' hands are soft, manicured, and taken care of. His hands show that of someone who has never worked a day of hard labour in his life. It feels like he regularly soaks them in milk at night to maintain their babe-like texture. A catch a whiff of warm flowers as we walk. Afternoon tea is hosted in the Salon with the earliest guest to arrive. It's mostly family. Mother and Father are seated in a corner with Edith and Harold Barton._

_"Everything looks lovely, Charles" I praise, looking at the assortment of sandwiches, and scones, and tarts, pies, and cookies. The food is laid out in a long table at the far end of the room away from the harsh glares of the fast-fading sunlight. A small fire burns in the fireplace and a string quartet plays for the guests enjoyment. Charles blushes at the compliment, head bowed in a humble gesture._

_"Phillip Coulson and Charles Barton" the doorman announces as we walk in. The room stands in attention, pausing to pay us their respects. Charles and I greet them with a bow. I take him to where our parents are seated. Both Alphas rise-up and offer him their chairs. Charles, chooses father's chair as a sign of respect to his future family. Father looks pleased at his display. I take my place, standing behind Charles, as my father does behind my mother._

_"My darling have you seen your brother?" Edith says after the pleasantries have gone around our six-person circle. She is dressed in matronly Barton Family colours in the shades of dark lavender. "I've been here since morning but I have yet to see him. Is he doing well? Surely his health is good since today is a special day, yes?"_

_Charles takes her hand. "Yes Mama" he answers. "Clinton has been in his room since we arrived, preparing for tonight. So have I, do you like the selection?" I hear him ask. My mother soon joins the conversation. Together, the three of them are discussing the variants of tonight's desserts and the order which they should be served._

_"It seems that we shall have twice the celebration" Harold exclaims, patting me on the shoulders. "Proximity to such a fine young couple must have encouraged Clinton to present." I hide my grimace. I am not fond of Clint being treated like just another ornament. He has been nothing but charming since their arrival in the Coulson's Family Manor. I think my relationship with Charles has nothing to do with it._

_"I have brought a case of young wines as a gift for the young Omega" Father declares "and a young veal to be brought from the stables for tonight's feast. I believe the cooks will be cooking one of your favourites as a congratulatory meal."_

_"My deepest gratitude goes out to both of you, kind fathers. I believe that Charles and Clinton will enjoy the wine and the meal." I say, with a hand over my chest. "Charles has done marvellous work of the preparations." I commend my intended, a common thing to so at such formal gatherings. It's just to praise his diligent work with the arrangements._

_I see Harold Barton smile from ear to ear. "So gracious you are with word, my dear lad." He says proudly. "You have the makings of a good Alpha!"_

_"Why of course!" My father boasts in jest. "Phillip takes after me." And both men laugh._

_"I beg pardon" I say politely. "I must pay respects to our other guests." I bow to them both before retreating. From the corner of my eye, I see Charles smiling into a teacup and briefly our eyes meet. I walk to him. "Perhaps you can grace us with your music, my dear Charles." I ask. He smiles up to me, shyly, and nods._

_"Which would you like me to play?" he asks, in a quiet voice. I pause and think, perhaps something moderately lively._

_"The harpsichord." I reply. "I do recall your mother boasting of your many musical talents."_

_"I shall play if is so pleases you, dear Alpha" Charles tells me and I merely nod. I lead him by the hand to the large wooden instrument across the hall. The covers have been lifted. I pull out the stool and assist Charles into place. His long elegant fingers drift over the keys like gentle rays of sunshine. Yet as I go around the room, accompanied by the music of Charles' playing, my mind wonders to less elegant fingers that have been hardened by a bow and arrow._

_***_

_I retire late in the afternoon to prepare for dinner. Charles has left half a candle ago in order to oversee the kitchen. I bid our guest my warm goodbye before hiking up to my private chambers. The hall is coated with the sweet scent of rain. Fresh and clear like it had just poured from the sky, cleansing away the mould and dirt that once covered these unused halls. The Country House is much smaller, the rooms are closer together. It's a place built more for entertainment rather than year-long habitation._

_Clint is still locked away in his room. I can smell his excitement and anxiety for tonight's events. Without thinking, my feet lead me to his door and my hands have knocked before I noticed them moving. There's a hushed shuffling noise from behind the door, a click of a lock, then Clint is facing me with his hair mussed and unmade, eyes in a haze, in nothing but his thin muslim under night gown. I blush when he catches my eyes trailing down._

_"Phil?" he asks, voice hoarse from the lack of use. "Is it time already?"_

_I nod, stiffly. "Charles is finalizing kitchen preparations. He should be up shortly to change into his formal clothes. As am I." I cannot stop my instinct to brush the back of my hand across his cheek. "How have you been? I apologize for not seeing you as frequently as I would like. The days have been frantic."_

_"Oh" he purrs against my hand in an unconscious gesture. Then he stops, blushes, and moves away. "I--I've been busy too. Barney says that I have to make my own jacket for the coming-of-age ceremony. I've been working at it all week. My hands will be covered are covered in so many scratches that I doubt anyone will want to dance with me." he says in disappointment. He opens the door a little wider, body still blocking most of the room from view, not that I peaked, and show me his hands._

_"Clint..." I says, it's not really a reprimand. True to his word, his hands are covered in criss-cross angry red marks from needles and thread that he was sewing. I trace over the lines with my forefinger and he hisses on contact. "I shall get you some salve. It will help ease the sting." I assert without waiting for his reply. "If you put some now, your hands will be fine by this evening."_

_He laughs at that. "You and I both know that what you say is an impossibility,"_

_"It's a secret Coulson Family recipe." I tell him. "Wait here." I rush to my room to search for the canister of salve. I dig it out from underneath my vanity drawer and bring it to Clint. "Here" I say, opening the lid. "It'll feel cold at first by your hands will thank me for it. You should remember to rinse before dinner." I warm the salve as best I could with my fingers before I massage it into his fingers. The littlest touch between us sends goose bumps up my arms. We both shiver at the contact._

_"You're such a good Alpha" he tells me but I shake my head._

_"I wish to be an even greater friend, not just an Alpha" I reply. He grins a lopsided grin and chuckles._

_"Never mind, I take it back. I think you're weird." he tells me with a straight face."Without Charles, I bet none of the other Omegas will be dancing with you tonight." he teases._

_"Is that so?" I question light-heartedly. "For someone as handsome as me? Does that phrase not sound familiar?" This time, it's his turn to blush a shade of pink. "Honestly Clint, your mouth will get the better of you one day. You should be careful what you say tonight."_

_He frowns. "You're starting to sound like my mother, or worse, Barney!"_

_"I'm sorry" I lower my head. "It was presumptuous of me. I did promise you that nothing will change between us. I just... I do not want those 'knot-heads' out there getting the wrong impression of you. You deserve much more than that. I do honestly care about you, Clint."_

_"Very well" he nods. "I shall behave if you promise to be my first dance."_

_I blink. The first dance was special. It was often with the Omega and their father, or the head Alpha of the family. In this case, since Charles is my intended by extension Clint becomes part of my family. The thought sends a guilty thrill through my veins. Clint as part of my family fuels something within me._

_"Father had a bad leg. He's barely made it through Barney's first dance." He explains. "So maybe instead of Mr. Coulson, I can dance with you?"_

_I nod, understand. "If Harold shall allow, I will be glad to be your first dance." I say._

_Clint grins. "Papa is Harold now is he? Shouldn't father-in-law be more appropriate?"_

_I laugh. "Quiet you. Don't forget to rinse our your hands before you dress. The salve will stain your clothing." I say. "I'll see you at dinner. I must go change."_


	2. Chapter 2

_Mother's garden was transformed into a scene from a story book. Hundreds and hundreds of candles illuminated the circumference of the garden on seven-piece candle poles, while seven large candle-chandelier were hung on the sturdy tree-branches. It created the appearance of beeswax candles floating in the dark autumn sky. It was beautiful. Mirrors were places along the branches which surrounded us, reflecting the light and creating the perfect backdrop for the occasion._

_I was dressed in a midnight blue coat with gold pinstripes and hemlines of embroidered with golden thread. My cuffs were thick and equally detailed. My shirt was lighter shade of blue but the same intricate pattern in gold. It was a high-collar jacket, forcing my chin higher than I was comfortable with. Beside me, Charles dressed in the perfect compliment. His jacket had a trimmer waist and a longer cut that mimics the ladies dresses. We waited at the landing of the staircase for our guests to arrive._

_"Young Master Clinton Francis Barton, our debutant." the foreman announces. I immediately follow the steps going up._

_Clint was stunning, appearing like the ripe young Omega at full-bloom. My mouth waters as he descends the stairs. His coat is a deep purple colour in a soft cotton fabric with large ornate golden button. It was simple but elegant, draping almost to his ankles where the tails swayed as he walked. He wore a waist-coat in a shade similar to the Coulson Family colours with pinstripes to emphasize the curve of his hips. There were no frills on his neck but a thin bow-shaped tie on his chest. There is no doubt that Alphas will be filling his dance card tonight and the thought sends spikes of jealousy through me._

_"Charles" he greets with an worried smile. It was clear that he was anxious for his first ball as an unbound Omega. He lowers his head is a small bow, hands stiff on his sides when he moved. It was a far cry from Charles' smooth practiced movements. I should not find it so endearing but I do. He turns to me, through his lashes he gazes. "Phillip" he says my full name and the novelty of it is not lost to me. Like He bows to me, similar Charles', except he raises his hand in offering. I take it, noting the slim satin gloves. His fingers twitch when I place a kiss at the back of it._

_Clint takes his place on my other side. The cool breeze only making his heat more pronounced beside me. One by one the guests arrive and the three of us greet them as the hosts. I eye with caution as Alphas line up in front of Clint. I watch as they gaze over him with hungry eyes, already lusting after what lies underneath. I cannot suppress my growl. It scares away the impish boy in front of Clint._

_"Phil?" Clint voices out quietly. "Are you alright?" From beside me, Charles clears his throat._

_I snap out of my envious trance. "I--I'm sorry. It must me the heat." I lie through my teeth. God knows how long I can survive this torment. When all the guests arrive, I take wave for one of the servants to bring refreshment and offer them each a glass. Music starts in the background. "Shall I have the first dance?" I ask my intended because the first dance was deliberately chosen for bonded-to-be couple. He nods, handing his drink to Clint, and takes my hand._

_The first dance is a slow and folkloric, written to draw attention to each partner in the dance. Charles begins with a twirl, balanced and perfect, then he bows. I, in respond, over him a low waist-level bow. It's similar to the regular partner's dance done in large gatherings, except a single couple takes the stage. Since Charles is my intended, I am given permission to be more liberal in my steps. I place a hand on his waist while I guide him in a large circle. He spins for me, and twirls, and follows my instructions ad the perfect submissive partner. A large applause erupts when we finish. I lead him back to the side._

_"You were perfect" I tell him._

_"As were you, Alpha." he replies. I walk him up the stairs were he announces his brother's debut. "Family, friends, we must rejoice two-fold for this evening's celebration. Tonight, I have the pleasure to announce my younger brother's presentation as an Omega. As such, let us draw our attention to his first official dance as an Omega of our society!"_

_A crowd has gathered around us by the time that Charles finishes speaking. They erupt in a well-mannered applause, welcoming Clint into our society. They courteously part, diving almost perfectly in half, revealing Clint and Barton Sr. approaching us. When I blink, I can visualize the exact same scene in a different light. I can see the long red carpet where he shall walk, the long white train that he shall pull behind him, and the Orchid-lined arches of the church where we shall marry. I am envisioning Clint in my dreams instead of Charles._

_There's shyness covering the young Omega's features, something I have rarely, if at all, seen on his face. He does not meet my eyes. Tonight, he lowers is head in a nearly-perfect picture of Omega submission. His hands are clasped in front of him, his steps are measured and slow. Barton Sr. offers Clint's hand to me, similar to how he would give his son's hand away during the marriage ceremony. A wave of want surges through my entire being as I reach out to take Clint's hand. Our eyes meet on first touch._

_Clint's kaleidoscope eyes widen, blown so wide than I could see only the black depths of his irises. His cheeks flush, painting his golden skin in a reddish hue. My best attempts to retain a passive face lose to his natural charm. I guide him down the stairs, looking nowhere but his eyes as I lead him into the circle which formed around us. Beeswax flames halo around sun-kissed hair but even a thousand candles are incomparable to his shining eyes._

_The world melts around us._

_Our first few steps are uncomfortable, out of sync. We tumble our way into the first verse. I hiss when he steps on my instep and again when he elbows me on the chest. It's a mess of uncoordinated movements--all awkward limbs, mismatched steps, gesture that do not much the music. I can see Clint fumbling as he tries to remember the steps of the traditional dance. His brows are knit together and he's biting the inside of his cheeks. I can feel the frustration pouring out of him in steadily increasing pulses._

_I take the first chance I get. The next form will bring him closer to me. He spins towards he until his back rests against my chest. I encircle my arms around his torso and squeeze. Clint squeaks at the unplanned action. "Clint" I murmur close to his ear, careful that my lips are barely moving._

_"I'm sorry." he whispers back, embarrassed. I squeeze him again._

_"You need to relax." I say, allowing waves of comfort to wash over him. "I will not reject you." I tell him. "Just be yourself. How can you enjoy if you are hardly being yourself, Clint? I will never wish that of you."_

_"But I---I'm not a good Omega" he confesses._

_I gamble the chance to brush the back of my hand against his face. "I like you just as you are. Perfection is not what I want." I says as I hold him. I let my hands brush down the line of his spine, letting my lips hover over his ears as I speak._

_Then finally, finally, he relaxes. It's like watching a swanling transform into a swan. Clint sheds away his insecurities and he's coming alive for the very first time in front of my eyes. He becomes the carefree boy whom I met that night at the party, the boy who was not confined my high-society, the boy who besotted my affections by stealing my European cigarette. Clint danced until I became merely an instrument of his expression._

_The Omega dances was meant to showcase the young Omega as they step into society. And Clint captivated every single person in the garden. He has uncanny grace that was unexpected from his uneven built and wide shoulders. He led the music instead of the music leading him. His jumps were high and his movements soft. At this very moment, nothing else was of consequence except Clint. Clint became an Omega, a proud Omega, an Omega who was not afraid of other's judgements._

_I could barely see the rest of the crowd while we spun, my hands clinging to his waist like it was a life line. Clint laughs like the entire world is his for the night. I am powerless to comply. He can ask me anything in this moment and I will not hesitate to please him. In his imperfection, I know I have the perfect Omega for me. Clint. I reverently say his name like a prayer in my mind. I want Clint to be my Omega._

_Too soon the dance ends. We are both breathing heavily. Clint has lost the demure smile and replaced one that stretches from ear to ear. In the distance, I hear Barton Sr. making a congratulatory toast and Charles seconding it, I hear the guests' cheers and their applause, I hear the music beginning a new song. But I only have ears for the way Clint is panting in laboured breaths, the way my blood thrums through my veins, and the strong beating of my heart._

_"Thank you" he whispers to me._

_Too soon, I let go and watch him disappear into the crowd._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I write the rest of the ball? I think I covered all the important bits. The only thing I can write is Phil getting jealous over the other people on Clint's dance card.


	3. Chapter 3

_My patience burns like that of the slow torturous beeswax candles. Contrasted by the backdrop of perfection, my frustrations rage hotter. The dances are in progress. Song after song, dutifully played by the troop of musicians bringing joy and life to the---my Celebration ball. Yet, I remain detached from the celebratory splendour. Instead, a white-hot jealousy blazes through my insides as I watch Alphas of different age and backgrounds trample amongst themselves to secure a slot on Clint's dance card._

_After his first dance, Clint has rarely been away from the floor while I am less inclined to join in the festivity. Both brothers join the crowd, dancing to their hearts content. They make for a breath-taking view in their own unique manner._

_Charles participates with a group nearest to where I stand. Around him are seven others of equal Alpha-Omega pairs, each of them I am fairly certain belong to various degrees of nobility or affluence in high-society. Together, as a whole, watching them feels like watching a performance in the theatre. Their movements are graceful, practiced, and perfectly in sync. Their eyes are careful to wander. I catch Charles, looking at me through half-lidded eyes. I see, each of them dance to entice and the display does not go unnoticed._

_Meanwhile Clint's chosen group is the one nearest the side. The seven others who join him, a mix of all three genders, friends of friends or family with one or two who have joining their first season. Their dance is clumsy and inept. What they lack in skill, they all make up for in energy and enthusiasm, laughing as they move in a circle without a care in the world. I catch my eyes drifting to their circle more than once. Clint momentarily raises his head and our eyes meet in an instant. It sends a thrill through me, the sense of knowing that we share something intimate. Then he lowers his head with a smile._

_Fresh trays of frozen champagne are brought out into the gardens when the music ends. I immediately take three glasses and weave through the mass of sweaty bodies. I reach Charles first, offering him a glass along with praises for his performance. He thanks me shyly, hand lifting up to my jaw before kissing my cheek in blatant affection. His brazen act causes the rest of his circle to erupt in lewd jests. I flush in embarrassment, using it as an excuse to step away._

_Treat in hand, I make my way to Clint but I am too late. He is nursing a glass by the time I reach him. He smiles at me with a toothy grin. Beside him is a young woman with devil's red curls arranged neatly at the top of her head. Her face was oval and pale, with powder tinting her sharp cheeks bones. Her eye were large and round in the colour of rare Chinese emeralds. Her pale pastel cream dress flowed down her figure but moved with the wind. She was a beta._

_"Phil, this iced thing is delicious" Clint says brightly around a spoonful of champagne._

_"I'm please to hear that you like it, Clint." I reply in false casualness. "Lady Romanova, it's a pleasure to host you in my home. How are you finding the party?"_

_Natasha Romonova eyes me with a frown, glaring at me from head to toe with unconcealed suspicion. Then with the blink, her entire expression changes. Her eyes grow wide and her mouth turns into a pout. She school's her face into a softer facade. She smiles at me with the innocence of a thousand virgins and says "The pleasure is mine, truly, Young Master Coulson."_

_I shake off the ill-feeling and nod. "Phillip, please. Titles remind me too much of my father. I am blessedly not that old. Please, do continue enjoying our the party. I must see to my other guests." I say and with a bow, I leave. I find Charles in the middle of the mob._

_"May I take your glass, my fiancé?" I ask. He turns to me with a scandalized expression and I can do nothing but give him an embarrassed half-smile. When he nods, I take his glass away, placing it to the nearest surface. He is still studying me, face filled with curiosity, as I come back. I touch his fingers with one hand and let the other hover over his waist. His breath hitches. "Shall you delight your fiancé with the next dance?"_

_Charles positively beams at the question. It's the first time I've seen such an honest expression on his face. It's---new. I am too stunned to think more into it. I want to dance. I want to twirl him around until the rest of the world does not matter. I want to take his hand in mine as we dance the night away. I want to spend the remainder of the evening filling my head with Charles' image and scent. For tonight, I tell myself, I must think of only him. He, who has gone through great length to orchestrate the perfect celebration. I must repay him with my gratitude two-fold and, for once, let him enjoy the night._

_"If it please you, My Lord." He answers softly as we make our way onto the floor. The notes to the next song are filling the air---a romantic folk song from Austria. It's wonderful, I think while we pass through the crowd._

_I take his hand, pressing our foreheads together. "It pleases me." I say. Charles' smile brightens._

_The dance is old but befitting of the country-side with a medium-paced romantic melody. I place a kiss on the back of his hand before we start. He blushes. We begin with a steady glide to one side, alternating between facing each other and facing away from each other with each step. Then, we clasp our out-stretched hands, and step-hop back to the other side. We end the manoeuvre with Charles falling into spin. He twirls while I dance beside him, hand posed above his head. I catch his free hand mid-twirl, he twists so that we are facing each other, arms crossed between us._

_We move in half-circles. He twirls to reverse our criss-crossed arms. With two half-twirls, he continue with arms above our heads, palm-to-palm. We lower it in a large circle to our sides without parting our hands. We return to Charles' turns as I follow beside him. He spins out of my grasp, laughing as I begin clapping my hands. Charles shows off a couple of his twirl-hop combinations before I am circling around him once more. Together we meet the at the centre. Facing each other, outer arms in a loop above us, one of my arms wrapped around the one he's folded behind him._

_We circle together, our side flushed together, and our breaths equally uneven. We share a puff of cool air between us. Finally we finish the dance, I twirl Charles one last time and he ends with a dramatic curtsy. The crowd applauds around us. Charles is opening laughing, in a mix of enjoyment and embarrassment. I drape my hand over his cheek and tenderly run my thumb over the soft skin below his eye. He leans his head into my touch._

_"Will it please you to dance another?" he asks, eyes openly pleading for my approval. I cannot deny him. I take his hand, kissing him on the palm and reply "If it pleases you" like the phrase was something intimate between us. He smiles all the way to his rich dark blue eyes._

_We line-up with the rest of the couples, taking place on adjacent sides. But we were not the only ones interest in the dance; Clint and his female companion joined us. The younger boy siding up to his older brother and Miss Romanova by my side._

_"They are beautiful, are they not?" Miss Romanova say quietly from beside me. I try not to show too much of my surprise at her sudden comment. Even without clarification, I understand the meaning behind her words. While individually each processes his own unique splendour, together they make a picturesque sight. I can feel the oozing jealousy from around us as Alphas and Betas alike, with one or two Omegas, stare at the lovely pair. Jealousy that mirrors from within because others are taking notice the brothers' beauty._

_I simply nod as the music begins once more. I do not engage her. We each bow at our partners. She and Clint are first to move, gliding to the centre before exchanging places. Her sharp green eyes gaze with an intention to pierce through my facade, fluttering between Clint and me. Then her lips curve up knowingly. With outstretched hands, they reach for each other, meeting at the centre, and return to their positions. She stares straight into Clint's magnificent blue before parting. Her lips move and Clint responds by blushing._

_Clint's cheeks are still faintly red when he circles behind me and I move to the centre to reach for Charles. I round back and feel Clint's shoulder brush against mine before we alternately dance with our partners in the middle._

_"Isn't he lovely?" Miss Romanova whispers to me as she passes by. She is teasing, I see, yet I cannot phantom to whom her question was referring to. Her eyes roam by face for a moment. She turns away, eyes smiling as she takes Clint's hand. I take Charles'. We all step forward twice and twice back. I maintain impassivity, moving in the figure eight before passing behind Clint and meeting Charles in the centre. We repeat our forward steps together. Instead of backwards, we turn and step in the opposite direction._

_"Sir Phillip?" She says when our backs brush past. This time, there is no denying that she meant it for me to hear. I step back, as dictated, to look at her with question. She turns around and meets Clint in the centre, hands held and circling before they move back, smiling as they do. I can see their chemistry clear as day without having to try. She is infatuated by Clint and Clint with her. A flush of anger rushing through my head without my control. I_

_"Does he not?" she presses. I take Charles' hand as we move to the middle. Our steps are now mere repetitions of the earlier sets of movements. Her words are neatly timed. Hence, there is no more reason to deny pursing a conversation._

_"I prefer if you would watch your tongue Miss Romanova..." I whispers when we pass each other in the middle. "... other might find your language provocative." She turns and looks me dead in the eye like a predator out on a hunt. "A lady like yourself has etiquettes to uphold during gatherings such as this._

_"I was merely stating an observation, Sir Phillip" she says lowly. "The Barton genes are impeccable." And I growl under the breath. miss a step, surprising Charles, who by sheer skill managed not to side-step the other dancers. He immediately grasps my upper arms, squeezing to catch my attention. The two of us are stranded in the middle with the rest of our companions circling around us. I can feel Miss Romanova's gaze still prickling at the back of my neck._

_"A little dizzy" I lie. I take Charles' hands and kiss them both. "Perhaps we should serve dinner after this dance?" He nods at me, concern filling the depths of his dark blue eyes. We fall back into the rhythm of the dance. The others seem unaffected by my distraction. Clint and Miss Romanova spin, circle, and twirl. I hear faint whispers of the newly formed gorgeous couple. It seems that it is his second time dancing with her. I bite my jaw, trying to repress my growls._

_The dance ends and we all clap to thank the musicians. Charles gently squeezes my arm. I turn to look at him. "Shall I ask the staff to ready dinner service, Alpha?" he asks me. He did not act on his own. He stayed within the boundaries of our families' agreement. Like a good Omega, still unwed into the household, he sought for my approval. I give it to him through my nod. He surges up to kiss my cheek before retreating._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I was in the mood to write some more jealous/stewing Phil. Hihi. Last part of this diary entry. Promise!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having back pains recently. I think I need to see a doctor. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing this. It's been so fun that I've been writing a lot of this verse recently.


End file.
